Chapter 11 - Rookie

I was still feeling disgusted with myself on Monday. Objectively, I knew that what had happened wasn't my fault. It wasn't my responsibility to check with potential bedmates whether they were single. Not in Danielle's case, and not in Michelle's. Still, I felt that I had not been sufficiently skeptical. It was ironic that Michelle had been wary on my behalf over Danielle, but Danielle had been the one who'd respected my integrity.

Of course, the question of relationship status didn't apply to the college kids who made up the Monday evening group. And to be fair, seen in that light, it also didn't apply to Danielle. The events were geared towards hookups, and anyone who showed up there looking for temporary companionship was implicitly announcing that they were single and available.

So Michelle's challenge that I hadn't done due diligence on Danielle really didn't hold water. Danielle could certainly have deliberately misled me, but the clear implication was that she was free to find herself a sweet young thing for the night.

Being a bartender rather than an event attendee, Michelle avoided making that statement. Which perhaps was a place where I could have applied some creative suspicion.

Whatever. I still didn't think it had been my fault, but the truth still was that I'd betrayed a woman I didn't know by sleeping with her wife, and had compounded the betrayal by manipulating Michelle's feelings to make her want me rather than just want sex with a random groupie. I couldn't let that go.

In my emotional turmoil, I didn't feel up to going to Gabby's the next day, not even just to spend time with friends. And I hid my feelings from Anita when I replied to my erstwhile mentor's occasional texts.


My hair wasn't quite the disaster I'd imagined it would be when I'd involuntarily soaked it and left it to dry, but as I picked out the ribbon and braids on Sunday night I decided I would take Elaine, the stylist, up on her suggestion of cutting and perming. I felt the need to be different. I didn't want to make a permanent change, like Michelle's tattoos, or even Dylan's art, but one of Elaine's creations might be ideal.

So on Monday I called Elaine. She couldn't find a weekend appointment for me for a couple of weeks, but she had one opening on Thursday afternoon. I decided to take a half day personal time and booked the slot.

Elaine cut and permed my hair as she'd suggested, shoulder length with loose curls. It felt light and free. Curls danced when I turned my head. Studying the results in a mirror, I was more than pleased with the effect.

We made an appointment for coloring in a couple of weeks, when it would be safe to work with the perm. I didn't yet know what color I wanted. Many of the options in Elaine's book were far too outrageous to me, though they looked great on the women whose photos she'd taken. For myself, I was thinking red. Or maybe blonde with red tips. That would be interesting.

On Saturday I received a text from Anita that wasn't about work, college gossip or checking in with me. She asked me if I was going to be at Gabby's on the following Monday. I replied honestly that I didn't know. She asked if she could call.

"See, there's a friend of mine who wants to visit," she said. It had been a while since we'd talked, and her soft voice immediately recalled lunches in the company break room, or sitting outside by the lake. It calmed the anxiety I'd felt when seeing her text about the club. "I can't be there," she continued. "I could ask Emma and Tiff to look after her, like they did you, but since your experience is newer and more like Kennedy's I'd prefer to ask you first."

"Of course I'll help," I said, "and I can definitely go. It wouldn't be a question of whether I can be there, just whether I want to, and if there's a reason I certainly will."

"Is there a problem at the club?" she asked.

"No," I said, which was mostly true. My issues with Michelle had nothing to do with Gabby's, other than buying drinks. But I heard the lack of conviction in my tone, so I pushed ahead to avoid revealing more."Tell me where to meet her and what you're concerned about."

"I'll text you a photo," she said, "and if it's okay with you I'll give her your number, so she can contact you to set up where and when. She's a newbie to the club, and inexperienced in general, and since you became a regular recently, I thought you could offer her advice."

My phone beeped with an incoming message. It was a picture of a girl who looked very young, compared to most of Gabby's patrons. She was wearing a gray jacket over a pale green tee, with a short gray skirt.

"Are you sure she's eighteen?" I asked. "She looks like she's wearing a middle school uniform."

Anita laughed. "I'm sure. She probably looks young because you're an old lady now, a full year out of college!"

"I feel it," I agreed. "I won't ask for her number. If she wants to text me she'll give me it."


The text from Anita's friend arrived the following day, in the middle of a text exchange I was having with Alexis, Ann's roomie. In spite of Ann turning our short-but-intense fling into Evil Seductress Kayla Seduces Innocent Straight Girl, nothing had been awkward between Alex and myself. We'd become friends via text. She referred to herself as my "token straight friend."

We generally traded good-natured insults, and Alex doubled down on including verbal hesitations in texts. She generally started our conversations with, "So, uh..."

This conversation had been about ideas for a Halloween costume. I had my own outfit mostly put together, so I didn't need help, but I was happy to let her bounce ideas off me.

After a long pause in our conversation, my phone pinged again, and I expected to see a "So, uh...". But the number came up as unknown.

???: "Hi! This is Kennedy. Anita gave me ur number?"
Me: "Yes! I'm Kayla. She said you haven't been to Gabby's before."
Kennedy: "Right. Maybe we could meet outside? I can text u when I arrive. Can u send photo?"

I'd spent too much time trading barbs with Alex. I almost made a quip about it being too early to ask for nudes, but then I realized that it was equally too early to make a smartass remark like that to someone I hadn't even met. Sometimes I can make good decisions. So instead, I checked the room behind me in case of unfortunate clutter, and snapped a selfie.

Kennedy: "Oh wow, I ❤️ ur hair!"
Me: 😊 "Thanks! It's only been like this for 3 days. I plan to be there around 7:45."
Kennedy: "I won't be there til like 8:30 or so, is that okay?"
Me: "Of course. I'm sure I can find something to do until then 😉"

Alright, so I'm not perfect.

The something I found to do was dance with Tiff, who looked bored, since Emma was discussing a class project with a guy. Emma glanced up at me when I was leading her girlfriend away, and smirked. I winked at her.

Today's outfit was the peach button-front top I'd worn to the club before, plunge bra so that I could leave the top unfastened far enough to show a little cleavage, burgundy pleated midi skirt that I hadn't worn at the club before, and medium heels.

There was no band, and our regular DJ was absent. Instead, the stage held DJ equipment manned by a blonde in a pale blue sports bra, camo Bermuda shorts and a lightweight wrap, with a sign billing the performance as a "trance revival." While I wasn't sure the genre needed to be revived, the music was very danceable, and less harsh than the techno / industrial sounds that were more familiar to me.

Dancing with Tiff was fun, as always. She was bouncy and sexy and had the cutest little nose with a tiny smattering of freckles over the bridge. But she could flirt while making it absolutely crystal clear that she was with Emma, and always would be. I respected that. There's no way Tiff would ever act like Michelle had.

Tiff managed to make me feel that my friends were trustworthy and honest, and to treat me as being the same. Maybe I shouldn't have skipped last Monday. A night's dancing with no expectations might have helped me not feel as negative throughout the week.

Though there was one thing...

I lightly rested my fingers on Tiff's waist and drew her to me, leaning close enough that she could hear me without raising my voice. "No matchmaking today," I said.

"Aww! You always say that!"

"I'm looking after a friend of Anita's. When she gets here," I said.

Tiff leaned back and beamed at me as I released her waist. "Ooh! You have a date," she cried.

I facepalmed before her. "You just love twisting my words, don't you?"

Tiff gave me a look of wide-eyed surprise. "No, Kaykay, I love twisting everyone's words."

Kaykay? I let it ride, shaking my head. "It's almost time for her to show. Let me take you back to your spouse before someone gets murdered," I said. "Though whether it's me throttling you for twisting my words, or Emma throttling me for keeping you from her, I don't know."

"Both," Tiff said, taking my hand. "Emma will murder you because you murdered me. Or maybe I'll murder you for calling her my spouse."

"Good to know we're all on the same page," I said.


The text I'd been expecting arrived less than five minutes later, and I excused myself to find Kennedy waiting just outside the door. The photo Anita had sent me didn't do her justice. She still seemed very young, but with a little delicate makeup, her dark hair in natural waves, wearing a heavy jacket over a green dress, heels and short silver earrings, she seemed both teen-pretty yet mature. Her ID got her into the club, so yes, she was at least eighteen.

She was about average height, so with her low heels she was a couple of inches inches shorter than me. Taller than Tiff, however.

Once inside, I took her hand - gently, sliding my fingers over the side of her hand, then into her palm, so she could choose to draw hers back - and led her to Emma's and Tiff's table. I slid a chair out for her, then held out my hand for a more formal introduction. "Hey, Kennedy, I'm Kayla." Then I introduced my friends. "This is Tiff, and this is Emma. They were my chaperones when Anita introduced me to Gabby's."

"Some chaperone I am," said Emma, "when she spent the last half hour making out with my girlfriend on the dance floor."

"True, that," Tiff agreed, brightly. "Except the making out part."

My guest slipped off her jacket. Beneath it, her dress was dark green and sleeveless. She straddled the boundary between adorable and sexy.

"What would you like to drink?" I asked her.

"What do you recommend?"

"My favorite drink has a tendency to burn off your taste buds," I said. "It might sound banal, but a Shirley Temple is interesting. We have a great bartender" - I tried to suppress my wince as I said that - "and she can probably make anything you can think of."

"I'll have a Shirley Temple," Kennedy said.

"I think I'll join you in that," I said. "What about you two?"

Tiff and Emma glanced at each other. I didn't sense any communication taking place, but Emma said, "We're down."

"Alright," I said. "Tiff, no setting Kennedy up with a girlfriend while I'm at the bar, okay?"

"I make no promises," the small girl said, with a mischievous grin.

At the bar, I gave Michelle an uncomfortable nod. She returned it, and I saw no sign of the hostility of the previous week in her eyes, though she was unsurprisingly distant, and I didn't expect to be on friendly terms with her again. I placed my order, and she loaned me a small tray to take the drinks back, telling me to keep it until one of us returned to the bar.

After distributing the Shirley Temples, I took the chair beside Kennedy. She glanced up at me and smiled, her cheeks actually dimpling. I wasn't sure which side of the cute / sexy line the dimples placed her. Both, I thought.

"So, my first visit was - hmm, less than two months ago, I guess," I said, after a little thought. "Seems longer. I knew Anita from work. Tiff and Emma were the first people I met here, and Anita trusted them to keep me safe from predators, so you can trust them. Not that there are any predators here, apparently."

"Except Kayla, maybe," said Emma.

"Nah." Tiff shook her head. "She's more of a playgirl."

"Oh, you two," I whined. "You're not going to help her feel comfortable."

"Just doing our job," said Emma.

I shook my head, chuckling. Kennedy's eyes were flitting around the table uneasily, not sure what to make of the banter. I reached out to give her forearm a quick squeeze, drawing my hand back immediately. "It's fine," I said. "I really don't know of anyone here who'd cause you problems, but we'll all be glad to take you under our wing."

"It's not her wing she wants her under," Emma said to Tiff in a clearly-audible stage whisper. Kennedy flushed and I glared at Emma. "Alright, sorry," she said, negating her apology a moment later by glancing between us and adding, "But it's true."

At that we all started laughing, even Kennedy, though there was still a touch of nervousness in her expression.

The conversation turned to the club, and its history, and safe spaces in general in the city. A lot of the stories were new to me, and I was as fascinated with the conversation as Kennedy clearly was.

"I've never met Gabby," I said. "Have you two?" I glanced at Emma.

She and Tiff looked at me blankly. "The owner?" I offered. "I assume?"

"Oh!" interjected Emma. "No. There's no Gabby."

"Yes, there is," corrected Tiff, "but not here. It's Gabby! You know, big stick? Those little round dagger things..."

"Sais," interrupted Emma.

"Right. Sais. Gabrielle. Xena's girlfriend."

"Oh! Xena, right," I said. "I didn't make the connection. That show's before my time."

"You're older than us, silly," said Tiff. "Everyone here knows Xena and Gabby. It was part of the written exam I took to become a lesbian."

"That's just for late bloomers," Emma objected. "Some of us are born shipping Xena and Gabrielle."

"I'm sure it was pillow talk for you," Tiff said, then added, darkly, "or bean-bag talk."

"And I doubt you ever took the written exam," Emma said, eyeing her girlfriend. "I think it was oral."

"Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?" Tiff retorted, her eyes bright.

While they were bickering, I noticed Suse making her way to us. Quickly, I turned to Kennedy and muttered, "One of our friends is heading in this direction. I'm certain she's coming to ask you to dance."

The girl looked panicked. "I meant what I said," I added, softly. "She's no predator. She'll take no for an answer without any hard feelings. But it's your call. If you want to dance, you'll be fine with her. If she wants anything more, that's your call, too. She won't be upset if you don't say yes. And if you want, I'll intercept her before she even asks."

Kennedy gave her head a quick shake. "I'll handle it," she murmured, as Suse arrived.

Our visitor introduced herself, then announced that since clearly no one had thought to ask the newcomer to dance, Suse had shown up to fulfill the duty.

Kennedy clearly debated the invitation internally, before giving a single, sharp nod, then standing, held a hand out to Suse, who gave me a curious look as they left. I smiled at her.

Tiff and Emma went off to dance, too, which left me sitting alone, and fair game for being picked up. I felt it was my responsibility to wait for Kennedy, though. She might stay with Suse, but she might not, and I wouldn't want her to feel either alone or dependent on Suse. I offered a couple of rain checks, but then Kennedy returned and I was glad I'd stayed put.

"She did suggest I could leave with her later," Kennedy said, leaning toward me. "I mean, I would have said no, but if you hadn't said anything I wouldn't have known it was okay with her to say no. Thank you."

"Of course," I said, "that's why Anita wanted to be sure you were in good hands." I grinned, looking down at my hands. "Well, I hope they're good enough. After a moment, I added, "So, Anita said this is your first visit? Have you only just learned about the club?"

"A couple of weeks," Kennedy replied. "I asked around about LGBT-friendly places for students, and this is the one everyone recommended. I had to steel myself to visit. I've never been... out, publicly, before, so it's a... a challenge. A friend put me in touch with Anita. We've been talking for a few days, and she agreed to make sure I was comfortable, or I wouldn't have come."

Kennedy held my eyes as she spoke. Hers were dark brown and expressive.

"A couple of weeks? You're new to the University?"

She nodded. "I'm in first year math."

"So you're eighteen?"

Kennedy nodded.

"I graduated last year," I said. "I'm twenty-three. Most here are undergrads."

"That's alright," Kennedy said. "I'd prefer to get advice from someone with experience. Though Anita said you're fairly new, too. Have you known you were a lesbian for long?"

"I'm not," I said, then clarified, seeing her surprise. "I mean, I'm not straight, either. I had a boyfriend until I left college, but I've known I was bi for a long time. Anita recommended the club for me to explore the other side of my nature."

"So you've done some exploring, then?" Kennedy asked.

"Uh, yeah," I said, with a grin. "I may never go back."

"I see," Kennedy said. She looked away, and I took the opportunity to study her.

Her dimples vanished when she wasn't smiling, though that didn't make her less attractive, just more studious. She had an oval face with a button nose and heart-shaped lips, emphasized with dark rose gloss. Her eyebrows were narrow, a touch of eyeliner giving her a studious look. The dark green sleeveless dress was casual, but still more classy than most of the patrons. It had a high neck, and the contours of the dress's bodice implied small breasts. The high hem of the dress showed plenty of lean thigh. I'd thought she was pretty when I met her outside, but under close scrutiny she was lovely.

I'd just torn my eyes away from her when a girl I didn't know approached and asked her to dance. She shook her head and said "Another time, perhaps?" and the girl nodded. She looked young, too.

"I'll be here next week," she said, hopefully. "I'm Grace." She held out a hand. She had short, lavender gray hair, green eyes, and a teen-slender body. Other than a quick nod, she seemed to have no interest in me whatsoever. She was entirely focused on the dark-haired girl beside me, with soft eyes and a smile that spoke volumes. Kennedy had found an admirer, and I thought it was cute.

"Kennedy," my companion said, taking her hand. Her eyes flicked to mine for a moment. I mouthed, "Go on!"

"You know what?" Kennedy said, before she released Grace's hand. "Yes. Just one, though. I still have more I need to talk to Kayla about."

Grace nodded, and the two scurried away. Through the drapes I saw them dancing, close and energetic.

Kennedy didn't return for at least fifteen minutes. "I'm sorry," she said, on returning. "That was more than one song."

Grinning, I shrugged. The DJ had taken off her wrap and was moving energetically to her own music while tweaking controls. "Who can tell? Each song blends into the next. You were enjoying yourself."

"I was," she said, "and I'll see her again next week." Then she focused on me, giving me a lopsided grin. "Today, I'd like to spend more time with you. Will you dance with me?"

"Of course I will," I said, "if that's what you want."

Kennedy nodded eagerly, and I followed her to the other side of the club.


I enjoyed dancing with Kennedy. She stayed close, glancing often into my eyes, while smiling, those cute dimples appearing. She was unpracticed, but clearly trying hard to flirt effectively, overplaying gestures like running her fingers through her hair or down her belly. I responded with my own movements, putting my hands on her shoulders to turn her away from me, then closing the distance from behind, drawing my fingers down her bare arms, close enough that she'd be able to feel my body lightly touching her back.

At one point, she turned to face me, squeezing my fingers in hers, then releasing them to touch the backs of my upper arms, before reaching inward and unfastening one more button on my peach top.

"Naughty," I whispered, leaning forward.

"Just correcting a clothing malfunction," she replied, barely audible over the dance music.

"How is having a button fastened a malfunction?" I asked, with a grin.

"From my perspective it is," she said, then grinned mischievously at me.

I turned her away from me again. this time letting my hands rest on her arms as I leaned forward, my lips close enough that my breath tickled her neck. She shivered. Touching my lips to her ear, I whispered, "You're making me forget that you're the innocent teen and I'm supposed to be the responsible adult."

Kennedy inclined her head back, then turned to move her lips close to my ear. "Maybe you could help me with the first part," she murmured.

"Help, how?" I asked.

"Help me not be so innocent."

A prickly feeling slithered into my belly; an uneasy blend of excitement and nervousness. Kennedy detached my hands from her waist, turned around and leaned into me, canting her neck so that her lips could press against my ear, her body pressed to my chest. "Take me home with you," she whispered.

"Kennedy..." I murmured. "I'm supposed to be looking out for you."

She drew back, and her expression was apprehensive. "Would you at least take me with you to talk? Away from here?"

"Yes," I breathed. "I think maybe we should."


Emma and Tiff had returned from the dance floor, both beaming. We collected our jackets, and I frowned at Tiff with a quick headshake. She understood my intent and didn't make any comment on us leaving together.

Kennedy and I didn't speak on the drive to my place, but I reached across and squeezed her hand for reassurance. At home, I took her jacket and hung it up with my own. Then I studied her. Her hands were gripping her upper arms anxiously. She looked almost as young as in the photo Anita had first sent me.

"What?" she demanded, uneasily.

"Just admiring the view," I said, honestly.

Kennedy blushed. "I've been doing that all evening." Her hands fell to her side. "Anita told me you were the hottest girl at the club. I thought she was exaggerating." Then she scowled. "You know, I probably wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"You really think so?" I asked, surprised. "Anita really thinks so?"

"I thought you knew," she said. "She also told me I can trust you implicitly. I want to believe that I can."

"I'll try to live up to Anita's expectations, and your hopes," I said. "Would you like wine?"

"You do know I'm eighteen?"

"I'm trying hard to remember that," I said, "but eighteen-year-olds can drink in two thirds of the world, and in much of the remaining third you and I would be stoned as perverts, so forgive me if I prefer to stay with the majority. Do you drink wine? I certainly don't want to pressure you."

"I have," she admitted, "and I'd like some."

I opened the second bottle of sparkling white. I needed to pick up more. I poured us each a glass and put the bottle back in the fridge. Then I handed a glass to Kennedy, motioning her to sit on the couch, while I sat beside her.

"What do you feel you have to trust me with?" I asked.

"If I tell you and you just want to drive me straight home, that's okay," she said. "Or I can get an Uber."

"I'll take you whenever you need to leave," I said.

"So, okay." Kennedy was silent for a time. Then she blurted out, "I'm a virgin."

I blinked. "That's a surprise, but how is it a problem?"

"It's a problem because I've had three girlfriends and never made love to them, and now I'm nervous that I might have enough anxiety about the situation that I'll stress myself out and be a disappointment or an embarrassment or end up alienating someone I want to be with." She took a breath. "So... I really want to do it with someone who cares about me." Her face colored. "And you're kind and hot and I like you, and I..." her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "I want you. I want to trust you with me. All of me."

I reached out to play with the hair at the nape of her neck. "You're adorable," I said. Kennedy looked up at me with suspicion. "You are. I hope that doesn't sound patronizing. Any single girl at the club would be thrilled to take you home, and you're offering yourself to me."

"Because I know that I'll be safe with you."

"And you're okay with me being five years older than you?" I asked. "When I was your age, you were in middle school."

"And now I'm not," she said, a little tartly. "Five years isn't a lot, and you have experience... but I don't. Even if you don't turn me away, I worry that I'll disappoint you."

"I think that's unlikely," I said, with a chuckle. I laid my left arm over her shoulders and drew her close. "Tell me about your girlfriends. Did you never want to make love to them?"

"I did, I really did," she said. "And the last one... I really wanted to be with her, and she wanted me, but I was in a religious family. Very religious. If they ever found out I was a lesbian, they'd... you know about conversion therapy? It still happens. A friend of mine..." she shook her head, then waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Let's say I needed to be eighteen before I was even close to safe. Getting away from home was more important than sex, or love, or even being myself. Now that it's behind me..."

Kennedy shivered. "Now that I can be myself, I have years of needs. I was twelve when I knew I liked girls, but I couldn't tell anyone. So, six years of hiding who I am, about four years of hiding kisses and of avoiding my parents' courtship plans. Girls younger than me are pressured into marriage and having kids. My parents had already started talking to the parents of a boy about me. That could have been an alternative to therapy camp."

"God," I said, squeezing her shoulder.

"Since I got away I've been talking to girls, flirting with girls..."

"You're doing that well enough," I said, with a grin. Setting my wine down, I took Kennedy's right hand in mine, then I raised it to my lips and kissed her fingertips.

"When I was talking to Anita about options," she said, "she mentioned Gabby's..." Her eyes widened as I began to suckle her middle finger. "And she said you could help me find my way around." Her eyes dropped to my lips. "That's... making me tingle."

I grinned at her around the finger between my lips. "That's the idea, my lovely."

"Does that mean you're not going to be driving me straight home?" she asked.

"I will if you want me to," I said, moving her hand to her lap. Then I drew her closer to kiss her neck. "If you stay - what worries you the most? That you'll be too embarrassed to enjoy yourself? That you might not be able to come? That you won't know what to do with another girl?" I kissed the base of her neck, letting my teeth brush her skin.

"Maybe all of the above?" Kennedy said. The pitch of her voice has risen. She sounded nervous. "I've... you know, done it to myself, so I know I can, but with someone else, I don't know, that's different."

Extending my tongue, I licked the side of her neck, then up to just below her earlobe. "Do you like this?" I asked

"Y-yes," she admitted, her voice unsteady.

Trapping her earlobe between my lips, I suckled it for a moment. "Is it turning you on?"

"Yes," she said again.

I released her, then took the wine glass out of her hand, setting it on the table. There wasn't much left. Then I gently pushed her into the back of the couch, and leaned across her body to lick the left side of her neck.

"I can feel your pulse," I said, softly, then touched her neck again with my tongue.

"It's going too fast, isn't it?" she asked.

"It's fast," I said, "but I think I can make it go faster. Do you want me to kiss you?"

Kennedy's voice was husky. "I haven't stopped wanting you to kiss me since we were dancing," she said. "I want to kiss you so much..."

"Hmm..." I said, drawing my face forward, touching my lips to hers, but moving away when she tried to catch them. "Would you prefer to kiss me, or undress me?"

"Nnng..." She made a strangled sound.

I touched my finger to her neck. "See, I told you I could make it go faster," I said. "You started to unfasten my shirt in the club. Why don't you open a few more buttons?"

"Okay," she croaked. She seemed to be on the verge of losing her voice completely.

Her fingers shook as she unfastened the rest of my buttons, and I think it took her twice as long as it should have done. My shirt fell open, and Kennedy stared at the deep plunge of my bra.

"Would it surprise you to know that my heart is racing, too?" I asked.

"I... yes, it would," she said.

Taking her right hand in mine, I moved it to my chest. "Can you feel it?"

"I can," she breathed. "But why? It's just... me."

"You're not a 'just', lovely Kennedy," I said. "There's a girl that I think is adorable and sexy, and that I'm finding I like very much, undressing me. Why wouldn't I be excited."

"Mmm..." she said, unconvinced.

Catching both of her hands, I held them in mine, then I moved them to run the fingers lightly over the surface of my bra, before kissing her fingertips. "Anita did explain that I wouldn't stay with you, right? We only have one night. Whatever happens tonight, we won't be dating, or seeing each other or anything? Are you okay with that?"

"I know, and I am," Kennedy said, then grinned. "You're too old for me."

"Oh, ouch!" I cried. "Touché! But good, because I want to to tell you something," I said. "And it's something that may not work for everyone, so please be cautious with what I say. I'm not sure if Anita or anyone else would agree, okay?" I paused just for a second, holding Kennedy's gaze.

"What I've found in the last few weeks," I said, "is that it's okay to let yourself go for one night. Give in to your feelings for your partner. It's okay to like them. I mean really like them. One night isn't going to make you decide you can't live without someone. Let yourself feel passion. And if your partner is passionate too... that's when the fireworks can really happen."

And it can make you hate yourself too, I thought, but that was a unique situation, and I wasn't going to mention it to Kennedy.

"I guess I'm saying - don't distance yourself from your partner before you really need to," I continued. "I like you. I'm going to allow myself to find you very special for tonight, because you are. You're not 'just' you, or 'just' anything. You're Kennedy, and you can have all of me tonight, too. So yes, I'm excited, and I hope you'll be able to enjoy me as much as I know I'm going to enjoy you."

She made a sound that was almost a whimper. I released her hands. "I'm still wearing my shirt, though."

"Sorry," she said, her attempt to sound ironic failing due to her difficulty in making any sound at all. She slipped my shirt over my shoulders.

"Will you kiss me now?" she begged.'

"Hmm," I mused. "Which would you like me to do? Kiss you, or take you to my bed?"

"Aaagh!" Kennedy cried. "You say you like me, but I think I'm starting to hate you!"

I beamed at her. "What would I find if I touched your pulse now?

She ignored the question. "I want to kiss you... but the idea of going to bed with you, that has to be my first choice. Gnnn!" she grunted.

Taking her hand, I led her to the bedroom. The bed was turned down, but I took the corner and pulled it much further, so that we could easily slide under the sheet. "Before we go to bed, which needs to come off, your dress or my bra?"

"Aaaah!" Kennedy yelled, then continued in a normal voice. "Both are going to embarrass me, because my boobs are so tiny."

"Your boobs will be as lovely as the rest of you, Kennedy, I'm certain of it," I said. "Alright, I'm making the decision on that one, then." I faced her, drew her close, then fumbled around for the dress fastenings. Soon it was sliding to the floor.

She folded her hands over her bra. "I'm right," I said. "Your shape is perfect. No need to try to hide yourself." I extended a finger past her hands and lightly touched the edge of the bra. It was a soft gray cotton with no firm framework, no wire, snugly holding her in place. It and her panties were a matching set.

"You are so... no, I'm not going to use the word again," I said. "I'll just say that Grace is going to be very happy next week."

She blushed. "You think so?"

"You like her, don't you?"

"I think I could," she said.

"If you'd prefer for her to be your first, please tell me now," I said.

Kennedy's eyes widened. "No! I want to be with you."

Reaching for her waist, I drew her close, then kissed her forehead. "Good, because if we don't stop now, I am going to have you."

I heard her gulp. Stepping back, I noticed a small but spreading damp patch on the gray of her underwear.

"Let's go to bed," I murmured,holding the sheet high for her.

"I think you should take your skirt off, first," she said.

"Fair point," I agreed.

Kennedy climbed under the sheets. I followed after tossing my skirt onto the chair, taking the left side of the bed, rolling to my right to face her.

"Will you kiss me now?" she asked.

"I will," I said.


Kennedy kissed like she danced. Energetically, enthusiastically, and unsubtly. She was exciting, chasing my tongue, suckling it - and boy did I feel it deep in my core when she did that - but not leaving much space for affection; for the difference between erotic and sensual. Both are exciting, but sometimes slow sensuality can turbocharge eroticism.

She was definitely becoming more turned on as we kissed. Her hands started to explore, tracing my waist and back, then fitfully reaching for the sides of my bra before drawing back. She sighed as I moved my lips from her face to her shoulder, kissing the base of her neck, then working my way up to her ear, nipping the lobe.

With my lips so close that my breath would tickle her ear, I whispered, "Why don't you let me take care of you for a time?"

"What do you mean?" Kennedy asked.

"Relax," I said. "Let me please you. Don't try so hard to be what I want. Let me be what you need."

"Like, just lie still?" Her voice was dubious.

"No, just don't get ahead of your feelings. Don't act, just react. Let yourself feel. I'll do the acting."

"Okay," Kennedy said, skepticism evident in her tone.

Lowering my head to the base of her neck again, I gently moved my lips and tongue against one spot. The fingers of my left hand explored her belly, while hers lay at her sides. My fingers drifted from the wide cotton band around her ribs, down her waist, and over the same gray soft fabric at her hips.

Kennedy was passive for several minutes. Watching me with excitement on her face, lying still, her breathing steady. As I kept drawing my fingers over her belly, though, and around the outside of her bra, she began to breathe more deeply.

Sliding my left leg over hers, I moved a little closer. Her chest seemed to be rising and falling further than it had been. When I closed the gap between my face and hers, she tried to kiss me, but I drew back, then parted my lips and pressed them to her upper lip. Each time she tried to close her lips on mine, I moved out of her reach.

Moving back in, I caught her upper lip between mine and my tongue, closing my lips around it and suckling. A soft sound escaped Kennedy's throat.

At the sound of her arousal, I moved my left hand over the front of her cotton panties. They were damper than they had been, and the moisture had lubricated her pussy, so that I could easily circle the fabric around, using two fingers to slide the cloth over her folds.

Kennedy began to pant, though I think it was more from nervousness than arousal, because after a minute she calmed, though her hips were twitching against my hand.

Catching her tongue with mine, I caressed it. She was less aggressive in returning the kiss, letting me lead. Her head rocked back slightly with each breath, as her chest rose further.

I moved my hand from her underwear to her bra, covering it, then closing my hand over it, lifting her breast into my grasp. Kennedy moaned softly, and did try to dominate the kiss at that. I let her for a moment, before sucking her tongue into my mouth, holding it between my teeth as I caressed it with mine. Kennedy groaned aloud, then as I sat up, drawing away from her, she breathed, "God."

Taking her hands in mine, I pulled her toward me. Her eyes were dark. "I've never felt like this," she said. "Not even kissing my last girlfriend."

"Honey," I murmured, "it only gets better from here, if you allow yourself to feel it." Then I reached for the hem of her bra and lifted it. freeing her small but enchanting breasts. "Lift your arms," I instructed. It took her a moment to find the nerve, but she did, and I slipped the bra over her arms and head respectfully, but not slowly, not giving her time to second guess her choice.

My eyes traveled over Kennedy's body. She was visibly restraining herself from covering her breasts with her hands. "Don't hide," I said, softly. "They're beautiful. And don't give me that 'If you say so' look," I added, feeling my lips turn up in amusement. "I do say so, but you said you trust me. Trust me on this. They are."

A ghost of a confident smile touched my companion's lips, and I felt I might have given her a reason to begin to accept that part of herself. I leaned down and kissed her right breast, my lips encompassing only the narrow, dark pink nipple. Kennedy quivered at the touch. Then I kissed her lips, parting mine against hers. Instead of attempting to consume me as she returned the kiss, this time she waited for my tongue to pass her lips, then suckled it with slow desire.

It seemed a good opportunity to bring more intimacy to the kiss. I moved my face against the girl's, separating our lips, then building up a rhythm, our lips meshing and moving. She followed my lead, her hands moving to my sides, her shoulders and neck shifting to keep our mouths moving together.

Setting my hands on her shoulders, I eased Kennedy back down to the bed, sliding my body over hers as I did so.My knees gently pried her legs apart, and I lowered my body onto her.

My hands moved to the sides of her breasts, caressing the very edge. I could taste her excitement in each kiss.

Reluctantly, I broke the kiss, moving my mouth to her left shoulder. Kennedy continued to stretch her neck, moving her head to expose more of herself to my questing lips and tongue. I felt her hands slide down from my side, her fingers pressing against the side of my bra. My teenage lover was becoming adventurous.

My lips left a trail of kisses over her shoulder, along her collarbone, then down. As they moved over her left breast, Kennedy's back arched, pressing the soft mound into my face. Her hands left my bra and gripped my shoulders. I suckled her nipple lightly, drawing back and flicking my tongue against the tip before dipping my face down to part my lips and take in more. Her areola was rough against my tongue, puffy with arousal. I fit my lips around it and sucked gently as I tongued it, then backed away, sucking her nipple.

Kennedy's breathing had sped up, hissing through her nose, though her lips were parted. Each inhale was a short gasp, each exhale a huff. I raised my eyes to her face, smiling around her nipple. She seemed to breathe out extra hard as she saw my expression, then returned to her soft panting.

Switching to her right breast, I repeated the process, tonguing her areola, suckling gently, then focusing on the tip. I kept my eyes on her the whole time. Her fingers dug into my shoulder, and I felt her belly twitch beneath my breasts.

When I moved back to her left breast, I licked the fingers of my left hand, then pressed my middle finger against her right nipple and circled. Even erect, her nipples were small, but they'd become completely firm.

After a few minutes of switching breasts, I slid up Kennedy's body and pressed my face into the left side of her neck, licking and kissing. Her hands moved back to my bra, fitfully pressing and squeezing the fabric. I moved mine to her hips, and began to slide my body against hers.

"You are so beautiful," I whispered into her ear. She shuddered beneath me. "I want you so much."

"I... want you, too," she replied, hoarsely. "Would you..." she stopped to clear her throat. "Would you take your bra off?"

Parting my lips wide, I moved my face back to hers, forcing her mouth to open as wide as mine before drawing the flat of my tongue against hers. Kennedy made a strangled groan. Then I raised my head far enough to whisper, "You do it," then caught her lips with mine before she could object.

Sinking against her, I continued the deep kiss, my body still moving against hers. After a moment, I felt her hands roam over my back, then find my bra and try to figure out how to unfasten it. As she was working, I rolled slightly off her, just far enough to wedge the fingers of my left hand between us, to touch the outside of her panties, finding them warmly damp and slippery.

Pressing down against her, I kept my movements slow, my fingers sliding against her in the same rhythm. Kennedy was still working on my bra. I felt it finally yield to her efforts and go slack. I quickly slipped it off before returning my fingers and lips to their positions.

Immediately, Kennedy's hands were on my breasts, fumbling, squeezing. She sucked hard at my tongue and groaned.

Sliding my right hand down to her thigh, I lifted her leg around me. Kennedy either understood what I was doing or reacted automatically, gripping me with her leg, hauling my body against hers, my left hand squeezed tightly between us. I stopped moving it, letting the rocking of her own body grind me against her.

She was panting into the kiss now. Quietly, but with increasing need. Her hands kept squeezing sporadically, not focused on any place or action, as if just needing to reassure herself that they were really holding what they held.

I gave Kennedy a couple more minutes to enjoy the sensations growing within her, then extricated my hand from between her thighs and broke the kiss. Sliding my body down hers, I ran my lips beneath her chin, then back down to her breasts, my fingers on her waist. Caressing her skin with my nails, I felt her belly twitch almost constantly with arousal as I suckled each nipple.

Moving lower, I kissed her navel. Kennedy's hands left my breasts, moving to my back, then tangling into my hair. She breathed in a rapid out-in, out-in rhythm, through her parted lips now, I noticed, Ehh-HH, ehh-HH, just the lightest trace of her voice coloring the sounds.

Sliding further down, I planted soft kisses on her inner thighs. They tensed at the sensation, and her belly clenched, the base of her ribcage standing clear against her body. Her left hand rested on the bed, but her right stayed in my hair, tightening as she twitched.

When I moved higher, Kennedy was writhing beneath my lips, her breathing rasping. My lips moved to the front of her panties, where I kissed the center, my lips and tongue roaming over her hidden lips. She groaned once before returning to her rough, unvoiced panting.

Her hand fell to the bed when I raised my body to a crouch. I lifted her knees, drawing her legs together, then eased her panties off, sliding them down her legs and tossing them aside. Then I drew her feet apart, lowering myself between her calves so that her thighs rested on my shoulders. Slowly, I drew my tongue over her swollen labia, letting it ease just between them.

Drawing my tongue higher, I replaced it with the first two fingers of my left hand, sliding them into her, curling them upward, and beginning to rock my wrist. Kennedy moaned loudly at that, her hips rocking her sex into my face. I planted small kisses around her sex, as she gasped, her thighs twitching with tension.

Even now, I didn't want to rush. I wanted to show her how passion could feel. So I avoided touching her clit, just getting close, her occasional moans becoming more frequent. When I knew that I couldn't long postpone what was clearly approaching, I rested my tongue on her clit without moving it. Kennedy's body shook, and she cried out.

For a moment, I thought I'd lost her to her climax, but she gasped and continued to pant. So I began to lick her clit as her hips left the bed. Twice her thighs tightened, lifting her sex, pressing it into my face, then relaxing as she cried out and collapsed back to the bed. Three times. Four. Then I pressed my lips into her, rubbing her clit rapidly with my tongue, my fingers pumping into her.

Kennedy cried out, her back arching, almost hiding her lovely breasts from my sight, but I could see the tips quiver as she stopped breathing, then burst into climax, her clit pulsing against my tongue, her whole body jerking.

Lifting my fingers, I caressed the inner wall of her sex, my hand and my mouth keeping her orgasm charged, until I felt her soften, drifting back down to the bed, pulses of pleasure still jerking her belly in spasms.

Her moans were soft as the contractions faded, and her right hand found my head again, gently tangling my hair in her fingers. I slid my hand out of her and looked up to see an almost worshipful look on her face. I crawled up the bed until I was over her, then lowered myself, feeling her breasts damp with sweat below mine.

"How are you feeling?" I whispered into her ear.

"Oh, my God," Kennedy breathed. "I don't even know. That was not like, umm, you know. Touching myself. That feels good, but what you did... it was incredible. I just didn't know."

"I'm glad," I said. "You deserve it."

"What about you?" she said. "You didn't, umm... did you? Do you like doing that to a girl if you don't, like, get to feel it?"

"Honey," I murmured, my lips against her ear, "making a beautiful girl come hard is one of the greatest pleasures in life."

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" Kennedy asked. Her tone of nervous curiosity made it clear that it was a genuine question.

"I do," I said.

"I think you are," Kennedy announced. "Just looking at you makes my heart skip. Seeing you, and feeling you like this, I guess it's hard for me to understand how girls could not be into other girls."

"You won't get any argument from me, lover," I said, "though I see the beauty in men, too."

She moved her hands to my breasts and began to toy with them. "And these..." She laughed.

"Glad you like them," I said. "Would you like to kiss them?"

I felt her nod against my shoulder. "Yeah, I would," she said.

Drawing myself to my elbows, I slithered higher on the bed until my left breast was close to Kennedy's lips. She immediately moved to take it into her mouth. Her kisses were delicate, and her attempts to suck were not, but her enthusiasm turned me on, especially after what I'd just done. I moved my right leg over her side, so my left thigh slid against her sex, while her right hip pressed into mine.

Kennedy took cues from my sounds and movements, her suckling gradually becoming less amateurish and more determined. When I started to moan, I wasn't faking my arousal. Her tongue against my nipple was sending sparks into my body that coalesced in my clit. I began to move against her, feeling the short hairs of her sex damp against my thigh.

My left hand moved to Kennedy's right breast, and I kneaded it as I rocked against her. From her breathing, I could sense her arousal building with mine. "Don't stop," I whispered.

Kennedy mumbled something around my breast that I couldn't understand, but seemed to imply "I won't stop," because she didn't. And I must have been more turned on than I realized, because I could feel that I wasn't going to last long, and what she was doing to my nipple guaranteed it.

"You can use your teeth, too," I murmured, "if you're very careful. Just enough to stretch my nipple out some."

Kennedy nodded against my breast, her mouth drawing it up and down as she did. Then I felt her teeth against me, and winced as she bit a little too hard, but then groaned at the spike in my arousal when she drew it out. She was panting through her nose as she resumed suckling. I thrust myself down against her hip, needing to feel her as I skidded toward the precipice.

She drew on my nipple again, and I overloaded, moaning as I imploded, waves of pleasure filling me.

Kennedy felt what was happening to me, and it seemed to excite her as she suckled hard.

When my orgasm began to fade, I slid down her body, tugging my nipple out of her mouth, then kissing her soundly, my left hand covering her sex. Tightening my palm, I shook my hand against her. My teen lover groaned into the kiss. Her hands found my breasts and squeezed hard as her ragged breathing became a cry. I kept my hand tight on her sex as her body quaked, and her cry turned into a series of moans that faded over the next half minute.

"Whew," Kennedy breathed, when I released her from the kiss.

I laughed, feeling my breasts shake against hers. "Now maybe you can tell how much making love to you turned me on," I said.

"I can," she said, smiling. "Can I, umm, do that to you? Make love with my mouth, I mean?"

Running my fingers over her face, I smiled at her. "You don't need to go down on me, Kennedy," I said. "It's okay to learn from another girl, when you're ready."

Her lovely face clouded in disappointment. "It isn't for learning," she said. "That, too, but we only have tonight, right? If I miss the chance to... go down, to kiss my first lover like that, I'll regret it forever. And... and it's you, and I think I'd regret that even more."

"You're right," I said. "I'm being short-sighted, and just the idea makes me giddy, so yes, of course you may."

Rolling off her, I shucked off my underwear and lay on my back. Kennedy squatted on my thighs. As she started to lean forward, I shook my head. "Hold on," I said. "Let me look at you first."

She gave me a half smile, seeming embarrassed. "You're serious, aren't you? You like looking at me."

"Completely," I agreed. "I don't think you realize how lovely you are."

"My hair's all tangled," she objected. "and I'm sweaty."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed, licking my fingers. "Pure sex." Then I reached up to pinch her nipple, twisting it lightly.

Kennedy shuddered. "Oh God, stop that," she groaned. "You're distracting me. Can I lie down now?"

"Alright," I said, with a mock sigh. "I'm all yours."

She shivered again before lying on top of me. Her breasts pressed into mine as we kissed, making my body tingle.

Before long, she slid down my body, fastening her lips to my right breast. She seemed fascinated by it, kissing it all over, using her fingers as well as her mouth. Reaching behind me, I grabbed a pillow, stuffing it under my head so that I could watch her work.

While I didn't force any sounds, I didn't suppress any, so that my moans and heavy breathing would clue her in to what felt good. She stretched my nipple with her teeth, then suckled more.

Reaching down, I took her right hand. "May I?" I asked, taking the movement of her head as permission, then laid it on my left breast. "You can work on both. And you can pinch my nipple, if you want. Pinch really hard. It feels better than you'd.... AHH!" I gasped, aloud. "Yes! Like that! Harder, even."

When she switched to my left breast, her left hand stayed on my right, kneading and pinching.

"I'm so wet," I breathed, not realizing I was going to speak until I did. Once I had, I elaborated. "I'm so wet for you, my lover."

Kennedy made a small choked sound around my breast, then lowered her left hand to my sex, stroking me as she felt the truth of my words. I began to pant, my hips moving against her hand.

I was so turned on. I couldn't have held my soft moans back if I'd tried. Kennedy must have understood how far she'd taken me. She stopped suckling and slid down my body, trailing her tongue over my belly, then descending to my sex. She didn't follow my approach of kissing her inner thighs, but I didn't need more foreplay, and she seemed to understand that, moving directly to licking my folds. If I'd had any concerns about her being reluctant to taste me, they vanished with the mind-blowing feeling of her enthusiastic attentions.

Lifting my knees, I parted my thighs further, giving Kennedy easier access. She raised her eyes to mine, and there was heat in her gaze. My hips started to rise and fall, seemingly of their own volition, and I cupped my own breasts, kneading them and pinching my nipples. Her eyebrows rose. Apparently she hadn't considered helping the process along. My thighs twitched as I twisted my nipples, the sharp feeling shooting straight to my clit.

"Go higher," I suggested, my whisper hoarse, and the girl followed my instruction. "Further," I ordered. "Do you feel it? Oh, God, yes, right there."

I felt Kennedy slide a finger into me as she lapped at my clit. "Oh, God, I'm almost there," I groaned. Her hand pistoned her finger in and out of me, and my excitement grew exponentially. My hips rose from the bed as she propelled me to the edge, and then over, thunderous waves rolling into me as I came.

When my climax began to wane, I drew Kennedy back up my body, then kissed her tenderly. She seemed to have tamed her aggressive habits, our kiss becoming intensely sensual without being a challenge.

Dropping my hands to her thighs, I spread them over my right leg, then held her to me as I rocked my hips. She joined me in the motion, and though we kept our movements gentle for several minutes, we were soon both moaning, and I succeeded in timing Kennedy's pleasure to arrive right before mine, our shared release lasting at least half a minute, but feeling much longer.


"I should probably be taking you home," I said, reluctantly. Kennedy was curled up against me, her head on my shoulder. We'd lain this way since we'd finally rolled apart.

"You've done so much for me, I hate to make you do that," she said. "Couldn't I just use an app?"

"No way am I letting you get in some stranger's vehicle when I'm looking after you," I said.

Kennedy laughed.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You're the best babysitter I ever had," she said.

"Best babysitting job I've had, if you want to see it that way," I admitted. "But no, I'm not entrusting you to a ride app, and I'm not letting you pay to leave here. I'm guessing you're entirely on your own, after breaking from your family, and every dollar counts."

"True," Kennedy said. She rolled off me and sighed before beginning the hunt for her clothes. "I'm going to miss you," she said.

"I'll miss you too, my pretty teenage lover," I said, then I slipped reluctantly out of bed and starting hunting for my panties.


Had it been pretty much anyone other than Kennedy, I wouldn't have hesitated to keep her in bed longer. Maybe even dozed off with her, so that we could wake for another round. We were that good together. But I knew I could remember the night fondly, without feeling the need to repeat it, while I couldn't be certain that the girl wouldn't think of the experience as a manifestation of love at first sight. After she'd slept with Grace - or whomever - and others, I knew she'd be strong enough to recover from giving so much of herself to her partner.

For now, she was too new to the feelings that had awoken within her to risk letting them take over. But I wasn't cruel. I wanted her to know how special she was to me, and when we arrived at her apartment, I drew her into my arms and kissed her. We made out for several minutes before I drew back and ran my fingers over her lips.

"I hope you enjoy your night with Grace as much as I've enjoyed mine with you," I said. "And please, you have my number, call me at any time, if you feel the need. Or for any reason, really."

She took my hand. The smile she gave me was intimate, but seemed to have no hint of sadness at parting. "Thanks, Kayla," she said. "I will. I understand why Anita trusts you." Then she squeezed my hand and left my car. I watched until she'd opened the door to her apartment, then drove home.