CALIFORNIA GIRL 1
This is a work of lesbian fiction. None of the characters or scenarios actually existed. If you are offended by stories involving teenage lesbian girls and their female lovers, please stop reading.
(Lesbian High School)
The year was 1966. Alison Palmer had the sunny California good looks that you only seemed to see on TV or in movies. Only 16-years-old, Alison was blessed with straight, golden hair that ran down to the middle of her back. Living near the beach, Alison always had a healthy-looking tan and was slim and naturally athletic, usually traveling by wooden skateboard everywhere, like the boys.
For Alison, her stunning good looks had proven to be more of a hindrance than a help ever since she had emerged from puberty at age 12. Girls her age felt threatened by her, and boys were either trying to prove their masculinity by obnoxiously hitting on her, or were too intimidated to even have a simple conversation with her at school.
With no opportunities for girls sports available to her in her school, and not wanting to be a cheerleader, Alison spent most of her time alone, often at the nearby beach. For her 16th birthday, Alison had been surprised with a 1958 Pontiac Safari station wagon. While the seafoam green behemoth was not the hippest set of wheels in the beach community, it had plenty of room in the back for Alison's prized Hobie polyurethane longboard. Alison quickly fell in love with the car, and named it Mary, after the character that Shelley Fabares played on The Donna Reed Show.
It was agreed that Alison would be responsible for her own gas, and would pay for half of her monthly car insurance. In return, Alison agreed to run some occasional family errands, like going to the store, and picking up her younger brother from baseball practice.
Alison's younger brother, Timmy, was an amiable 12-year-old, and a star Pony League baseball player. Like Alison, he had been blessed with extraordinary good looks, and was becoming, to Alison's amusement, a bit of a 7th grade "chick magnet."
The four years that separated them made for an easy relationship between the siblings, and Alison had doted on Timmy when he was a toddler. Now, they enjoyed sitting on the couch together and watching the TV shows of the day, like Bewitched, and Batman. If Alison had thought about it, Timmy was probably her best friend.
In order to obtain gas money and to pay for her modest monthly car insurance, Alison had picked up a number of odd jobs around the neighborhood, like babysitting and dog walking. Alison was a responsible teen, and had always adored young children, who adored her in her return. Six-year-old Jimmy Maddox had developed a kiddie-crush on the beautiful blonde teenager, and would insist that only Alison be permitted to babysit him. "She's pretty," Jimmy purred to his amused mother.
It was nearly 5:00 p.m. when Alison pulled up at the baseball field to pick up her younger brother. Standing next to Timmy was a pretty brunette girl dressed in cut-off's and sockless Keds sneakers. Cut-off's were really just old jeans that had been cut at the thighs into shorts. Cut-off's were standard apparel for kids and teenagers in Southern California.
Alison recognized the girl as Carrie Connors. A 7th grader, like Timmy, Carrie was one of the best junior surfer girls in the area. Carrie was wearing a navy blue and white horizontally striped Hang Ten shirt. Again, standard gear in Southern California. If not for her shoulder-length brown hair and pretty, tan face the flat-chested 12-year-old girl could easily be mistaken for a boy.
Stopping her station wagon, Alison smiled at the youngsters. Were they a couple, she wondered? Timmy was the first to speak, saying to his sister: "You know Carrie, doncha?" Alison smiled and nodded, she didn't want to blow whatever Timmy was working on. Timmy continued, "I told Carrie that you could give her a ride home. Do ya mind?" "Not at all," Alison quickly answered.
"Bitchen wheels, Alison," Carrie said admiringly. "I can hardly wait until I'm old enough to drive." Alison noticed that Carrie had her wooden skateboard tucked under her arm like Alison had done so many times before her. "Carrie, why don't you ride shotgun." Carrie dutifully opened the passenger door. Alison wasn't so much concerned that the 7th graders might try to get frisky in the back seat, she was more worried about how it would look if she appeared to be chauffeuring around two 12-year-olds.
Although the station wagon's bench seat was enormous, Alison could sense that Carrie felt nervous sitting next to her. As she turned the vehicle to exit the baseball diamond parking lot, she looked at her preteen guest. There were the tiniest of bumps on Carrie's slender chest. It seemed to Alison that Carrie was probably not wearing a bra.
After a few uncomfortable seconds of silence, Alison turned the radio knob to 93 KHJ, the top station in the Southern California area. Jan & Dean's "The Little Old Lady (From Pasadena)" was playing over the tinny car speaker, and soon all three of their heads were happily bobbing to the upbeat tune. At the end of the song, Carrie declared "Aren't Jan & Dean boss!" Alison and Timmy nodded their heads in agreement.
As Carrie directed Alison to her home, the hands of the two girls inadvertently met on the bench seat of the station wagon. Alison was surprised by Carrie's unusual reaction to the innocent touch. Carrie quickly moved her hand as if she had just come into contact with fire. Carrie's face inexplicably turned a bright shade of red as she tried to look away from Alison. Carrie's slender chest heaved oddly as if she were trying to catch her breath.
Exiting the car, Carrie managed to smile awkwardly in Alison's direction and say, "Thanks for the ride." Timmy got out of the backseat of the car. He didn't know if he should try to kiss Carrie or what, but had to settle for the pretty brunette saying, "See ya, Timmy."
Timmy was clearly smitten as he moved to the shotgun seat of Alison's station wagon. "Isn't she bitchen?" Timmy said exuberantly. "You'd better watch that word," Alison said. "You know Mom doesn't like it. And yes, she's a very pretty little girl." Ignoring the "little girl" label, Timmy beamed from ear to ear as they wordlessly drove home.
Dr. Foster was one of Alison's regular dog walking customers. A busy school psychologist in a neighboring district, Dr. Foster, an attractive woman in her mid-30's had to work late often, and would call Alison whenever she thought she wouldn't have time to take her treasured little Yorkie, Clementine for a walk.
Often having to call Alison on very short notice, Dr. Foster paid handsomely above Alison's normal rate, so Alison was always happy to be accommodating. Alison had never heard of a Mr. Foster, or a steady boyfriend, which was unusual for a woman of Dr. Foster's age.
On this particular Thursday, Alison had a rare half-day off from her high school classes due to a teacher's conference. Alison had taken the opportunity to head out to the beach for the afternoon. Upon returning home, Alison received Dr. Foster's phone call.
Not bothering to change clothes, Alison left a quick note stating that she was going to walk Dr. Foster's dog, and hurried to Dr. Foster's nearby house in a yellow bikini top and cut-off's over her bikini bottoms. The house was only two blocks away, and Alison knew a short cut.
Arriving at Dr. Foster's house, Alison opened the gate to the backyard, and reached for the leash that was hanging on a hook. Clementine was happy to see Alison. She knew that meant she was going for a walk.
Alison picked up and hugged the little dog before attaching the leash to Clementine's collar. Alison walked the dog around the neighborhood on a familiar route. Seeing the pretty, tan, golden-haired beauty dressed in just a bikini top and cut-off jean shorts, three teenage boys she didn't know drove by in a souped-up car and noisily wolf whistled at the blonde 16-year-old.
Alison thought this type of behavior was very rude, and was one of many reasons that she didn't care for boys. Alison resisted the urge to "flip the bird" in the direction of the teenage boys, and continued to walk the small dog, pretending that she hadn't heard anything. Sticking her chin upwards, Alison thrust her shoulders back and her perky teenage boobs out in a sign of proud defiance.
Returning to Dr. Foster's home, Alison was surprised to see Dr. Foster's 1965 Mercury Grand Marquis in her driveway. Putting Clementine in the backyard, Alison neatly hung the leash back on the peg and walked around the house to knock on the door.
Dr. Foster opened the door. She was dressed in a very professional-looking grey business suit. She had already removed her shoes. "Come in, honey," Dr. Foster cheerily said to the teenage dog walker. "How was your walk with Clementine?" "Not so great," Alison complained. "A bunch of boys in a loud car whistled at me."
Looking at the sexy, sun-kissed teenager in her bikini top and tight jean shorts, Dr. Foster stifled a laugh before smiling and saying: "Well, I can hardly blame them. You are an unbelievably beautiful girl." Alison blushed noticeably. "Do you really think so?" Alison innocently asked. "I most certainly do," Dr. Foster replied, briefly touching Alison's pretty face.
For some reason, Alison had always been strangely interested in Dr. Foster. The woman certainly had a nice personality and she admired Dr. Foster's independent lifestyle, but there was something else going on, and Alison had never before been able to place her finger on it. Alison repressed any thoughts that she might have a physical attraction to the buxom older woman.
"Do you have a boyfriend, Alison?" Dr. Foster asked. Alison confessed that she found boys to be more trouble than they were worth. She explained to Dr. Foster that she had gone on a couple of dates with "Big Man on Campus" types, but that she had spent the majority of her time fending off their attempts to "Cop a feel of my little boobies." Other boys, she explained, would nearly faint if she said so much as hello to them.
Alison made clear that she didn't dislike all boys. In fact, she loved her little brother and enjoyed his company. "It's just..." Alison tried to explain, "Most of `em are creeps!" "Amen," Dr. Foster said with a loud laugh and a mysterious little wink.
Tugging at her business suit, Dr. Foster said, "This thing keeps pinching me. Honey, why don't you go to the fridge and pour us some ice tea and bring it to the bedroom while I change."
Alison dutifully walked to the kitchen. She grabbed two tall glasses and found some ice cubes in the freezer. Pouring two glasses of ice tea, Alison carefully carried them to Dr. Foster's bedroom, not wanting to spill a drop on Dr. Foster's wall-to-wall carpet.
Walking through the bedroom door, Alison nearly dropped both of the drinks. Dr. Foster had stripped to her black bra, panties, and thigh-high silk stockings. Alison had always been aware that Dr. Foster had an attractive figure, but in her conservative clothes it was hard to tell very much. Now, nearly naked, Dr. Foster looked to Alison like Sophia Loren: Dark hair, a sexy hourglass figure, and big, round boobs that seemed to be fighting their way out of her lacy bra. Dr. Foster was a bombshell of a woman!
"Wow!" Alison sputtered. "Thanks, Honey," Dr. Foster cheerfully replied as the pretty teenager stared at her while she was adjusting her large breasts in the tight bra.
Alison knew very well that she was an attractive teenage girl, but at that moment she felt that she practically looked like a boy when standing beside the mature, dark-haired beauty. The wheels in Alison's head began to spin. She found that she was more turned on by Dr. Foster than she had ever been by any boy.
"Dr. Foster, you are really choice.' Why do you hide it in those drab suits?" Dr. Foster had a wide grin on her face and said, "I hope choice' means something good? In my job I have to dress conservatively to be taken seriously as a psychologist. Besides, it keeps a lot of `creeps' from trying to date me," she said with a laugh.
"Alison, please start calling me Susan. I like to leave Dr. Foster at work. I deal with a lot of troubled children every day, and I like to relax when I get home. Seeing a pretty girl like you really eases my day." Susan again gently caressed Alison's pretty face.
Alison smiled and handed Susan a glass of ice tea. Susan invited the sexy teen to sit with her on the bed as they continued to talk. Being a psychologist, Susan tried to dig deeper into Alison's earlier negative comments about boys.
"Alison, I don't mean to frighten you, but sometimes girls and women are happier in each other's company. Do you know what I mean?" Alison nodded her head unsurely. "Would it surprise you to learn that I'm one of those women?" Alison looked down and said, "I guess I knew that there was no Mr. Foster, and that you've never spoken of a boyfriend or anything, but I never really thought you might be a lesbian."
There was a brief silence before Alison quickly said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and then innocently asked, "Is that a bad word?" "No. Not to me, honey." Susan rested her hand gently on Alison's tan knee. "What about you, honey? Have you ever kissed a boy?" Alison embarrassedly shook her head no. Continuing with her questions, Susan said, "I see. Have you ever had thoughts about girls?"
Alison wasn't quite sure why she was now revealing her deepest secrets to Susan, but sheepishly shook her head up and down to acknowledge that she had indeed thought about girls. "When I watch TV, I think Jeannie, Elly May, and the Petticoat Junction girls are all pretty `primo.' They all have big boobs like you." Susan laughed heartily, and squeezed the teenager with her arms, pressing a large bra-covered breast into Alison's bare arm.
"What about girls your age?" Susan asked. "Girls my age try to pretend I don't even exist. I think I scare them. However, there is this really cute younger girl that's a friend of my brother. I think she likes me that way." Susan was a little more than surprised to learn that Carrie was still in junior high.
Susan then surprised Alison with a tender kiss on the lips as she gently stroked the teenager's long, golden hair. Looking into Alison's big blue eyes, Susan said, "Alison, we can be special friends, if you'd like." Susan softly rubbed the 16-year-old's tan back, and Alison quietly purred at Susan's gentle touch.
Noticing that Alison's eyes seemed entirely focused on her considerable breasts, with a quick, one-handed snap, Susan unhooked her confining, lacy black bra. After lowering her bra straps, Susan's bountiful breasts were exposed to the 16-year-old. "Bitchen, man!" Alison breathlessly exclaimed.
Susan's large, 36-D breasts, were round and firm, like those belonging to a much younger woman, or even someone that Alison had snuck a peek at in a Playboy magazine. Not knowing exactly what to do, Alison continued to sit there, staring at Susan's wondrous breasts.
"You can touch them if you'd like." Susan said helpfully. Alison hesitantly touched the large orbs. Poking at Susan's big boobs nervously, the older woman placed her hand over Alison's and showed her how to gently squeeze her breasts, and how to play with Susan's erect brown nipples.
Alison was becoming increasingly bewildered and frightened by the whole unforeseen experience as Susan reached for Alison's hand and stood the teen beach beauty in front of her full-length mirror. Alison could feel the 36-year-old's naked breasts pressing into her back as the older woman tenderly kissed her neck and caressed her golden-tan shoulders.
Susan's hands lightly traced the front of Alison's yellow bikini bra, making circles around Alison's covered areolae and nipples. Alison was now noticeably trembling and goose bumps were rising on her young, tan arms as Susan removed the teenager's yellow bikini bra. Alison's 32-B breasts stood proudly upwards on her newly-pubescent chest. The 16-year-old's boobs were darkly tan-lined from her frequent trips to the beach, and Alison's pink nipples quickly sprung to life from Susan's eager touch. Alison's young breasts heaved noticeably due to her obvious nervousness.
The teenager shivered uneasily as Susan continued to inquisitively probe Alison's still-budding breasts. Still standing behind the 16-year-old and gazing adoringly at her blonde-haired teenage prize in the full-length mirror, Susan's hands dropped to stroke Alison's flat, athletic stomach before her hands settled on the top button of Alison's cut-off shorts.
"We... we probably shouldn't," Alison meekly protested as the older woman attempted to unbutton her cut-off shorts. "I.... I've never done this before." Undeterred, Susan continued.
Struggling with the button-front fly on Alison's 501 Levi jeans, Susan was having a hard time lowering the tight cut-off's over Alison's round, athletic ass. Meanwhile, Alison was squirming uncomfortably at Susan's arduous attempts to remove her remaining clothes. Finally, Alison's cut-off's hit the floor. Protectively, Alison adjusted her yellow bikini bottoms which were beneath the jean shorts.
Susan suddenly had an idea as to how to reassure the teenage beach beauty. Dressed only in black panties and thigh-high silk stockings, Susan released her grip around Alison's slender waist. Her whole demeanor seemed to change as she extended her hand to Alison and they hurried to the living room.
Susan's big boobs swayed attractively and her ass jiggled as Alison watched the older woman step towards her Hi-Fi record player. Susan had realized that Alison was willing, but needed some measure of romance, and would not rushed into the unfamiliar act.
Putting a stack of 45 RPM singles on the record changer, the first song to play was Doris Day's "Secret Love," an ironic selection. Knowing that all well brought up teenage girls Alison's age knew how to slow dance, Susan extended her arms and invited Alison to dance.
Playing the male role, Susan led and Alison followed. Not wanting to pressure the teenager, Susan left enough space between her and her partner that it could have looked like a junior high school dance if the woman and teenage girl were not topless, and wearing panties and bikini bottoms respectively as they slowly swayed to the familiar song.
Subsequent songs on the turntable included "I Only Have Eyes for You," by the Flamingos, "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley, and "Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole.
The music was working its charm. The older woman and younger girl danced closer and closer together until they embraced, and Alison placed her head affectionately on Susan's shoulder. Susan's large breasts pressed alluringly into Alison's more diminutive tan-lined breasts. Susan's active hands explored Alison's muscular, tan back, and dipped below her yellow bikini bottoms to clutch the 16-year-old surfer girl's athletic butt cheeks.
For her part, Alison responded enthusiastically to Susan's experienced tongue-kisses. Later, Alison couldn't remember walking to Susan's bedroom. It was if she were in some sort of trance.
Regaining some kind of lucidity, Alison found herself sprawled across Susan's bed with the 36-year-old hungrily on top of her. Susan's mouth was excitedly engaged with one of Alison's tan-lined 32-B breasts, alternately flicking and sucking Alison's extended pink nipples with her busy tongue. Susan's free hand was intently squeezing and fondling Alison's other perky young breast.
Removing her mouth from Alison's petite boob, the older woman resumed messily French-kissing the consenting teenager. Saliva covered both of their mouths as Susan's active hands continued to roam freely across Alison's bewitching young body.
Slowly wandering down from Alison's small breasts, Susan's hand found the teenager's flat stomach before descending below the high school sophomore's bikini bottoms. Alison's slender legs quivered when Susan found her teen pussy and began vigorously rubbing the 16-year-old's unseen labia.
Removing her hand from inside Alison's yellow bikini bottoms, Susan quickly removed her lacy black panties and tossed them to the floor. Returning her attention to the beautiful, blonde teen, Susan slowly and seductively lowered Alison's bikini bottoms.
Susan looked on in amatory delight at the now completely naked high school sophomore. Alison's nether regions were also tan-lined, and her white skin presented almost a target area for the lustful intent of the lesbian woman.
Alison had fearfully closed her legs tightly as Susan looked down on her lasciviously. Alison's thick pubic hair was an unusual golden blonde, similar to the hair on her head. Susan laid across the beautiful teen, placing her large breasts on Alison's slender torso as she forcefully wedged her hand between Alison's snugly-closed, slender thighs.
Shifting her position atop the surfer girl, Susan carefully licked her middle finger before slowly inserting it into Alison's virgin pussy. The teenager's whole body tensed up noticeably in alarm as Susan's lone digit penetrated two-knuckles deep. Starting slowly, and incrementally increasing her speed and force, Susan exuberantly finger-fucked the high school girl with a well-practiced metronome-like precision.
When Alison was sufficiently wet and was audibly responding with pleasure, Susan swiftly shifted her body so that her face was now between Alison's legs. The teenager peered down and saw Susan's dark, lust-filled eyes as she impatiently spread Alison's golden-brown legs.
Alison involuntarily spasmed at the first touch of Susan's experienced tongue. Starting with slow, long licks, Susan soon lost any measure of control, and began aggressively feasting on Alison's blonde-haired virgin pussy like a hungry animal.
Susan's well-coiffed hair unraveled chaotically as her eager tongue licked and penetrated the pretty, blonde-haired teen. Steeling her tongue in a spear-like fashion, Susan penetrated the pretty girl over and over again until Alison experienced her first all-consuming orgasm.
Gratefully, Alison extended her arms for Susan to join her in a passionate open-mouthed kiss. Leaning over the teenager, Susan proffered a large breast which Alison now enthusiastically licked and suckled.
Laying flat on the bed, Susan instructed Alison to lay between her silk-stockinged legs. Alison's tan-lined muscular backside was prominently visible as the teenager laid atop the older woman in the missionary position, their breasts smashed together.
Clutching Alison's athletic teenage butt cheeks, Susan pushed Alison's crotch into her dark-haired pussy as she encouraged the teen to develop a pounding rhythm. Susan's hands roamed along Alison's back before exploring between the teenager's legs and butt cheeks. Susan's fingers gently reentered Alison's pussy from behind, and ventured dangerously close to Alison's pink anus.
After another hour or so of lovemaking, Alison realized that she had better go home before her mother began to wonder where she was. Kissing Susan on the mouth, and squeezing one of her big breasts for a final time, Alison declared to the older woman, "That was bitchen," as she hurried to put her bikini back on and button up her cut-off's.
Looking at Alison lithe body, Susan played with her pussy while inviting the teenager to "Hurry back."
Alison ran the two blocks to her home. Her little boobs bounced attractively in her yellow bikini top. Walking through the door, Alison half-shouted "I'm home," as she raced up the stairs to her bedroom.
Her mother had made note of Alison's extended absence, and shouted back, "You were gone awhile. Is everything O.K.?" "We had ice tea," Alison responded quickly.
Sitting at her desk and preparing to do her homework, Alison gave a relieved sigh. She had gotten away with it, and couldn't wait to make another visit to walk Susan's dog!
The End. Please stay tuned for Part 2.
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